I Remember Me
by Nollie Marie
Summary: Dorian Havilliard's life was always easy as Crown Prince. Chaol Westfall has drifted through life without much purpose. The two boys visit the local children's hospital as part of an outreach program. There they meet Celaena Sardothien, a girl who is fighting the battle of her life. Three lives forever changed in a single moment by a single death. (some OOC, Modern AU)
1. Chapter One: Bring Me To Life

**I came up with this idea and it just wouldn't go away until I wrote it. The title of each chapter, even the title of this story, is the title of a song that describes the chapter. So without further ado, here is chapter one. Enjoy!**

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_Full Summary:_ **Two friends.** Dorian Havilliard's life was always easy as Crown Prince. Chaol Westfall has drifted through life without much purpose. The two boys visit the local children's hospital as part of an outreach program. **One Girl.** There they meet Celaena Sardothien, a girl who is fighting the battle of her life. Three lives forever changed in a single moment by **One Death.**

**Disclaimer: I am not the awesome Sarah J. Maas so I sadly do not own anything that belongs in the world of _Throne of Glass_. I do however own this idea and a bad sweet tooth craving.**

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Chapter One: Bring Me to Life

_"Without thought, without voice, without a soul  
Don't let me die here  
There must be something more  
Bring me to life"  
Evanescence, "Bring Me to Life"_

Chaol Westfall fidgeted with the plastic ear bud of his headsets that he stuffed in his pocket before joining Prince Dorian Havilliard, the heir to the throne of Adarlan, on the tour of the Royal Children's Hospital located within the heart of the capital.

Being in hospitals always made Chaol uneasy. Something about being surrounded by the sick and dying made Chaol feel like he was being buried alive. The harsh smell of bleach and ammonia were suffocating and burned his nose.

"Chaol," Dorian whispered harshly as their tour guide stopped to talk to a hospital staff member. "Pay attention. You have been zoning out for most of the tour."

Chaol looked back at the tour guide before pulling Dorian away.

"What's the matter? I thought this was something you wanted me to do." Dorian asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"It was. It _is_, Dorian," Chaol said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "You know how your parents feel about your, um…" Chaol trailed off, unsure of the correct words.

Dorian rolled his eyes.

"Your Highness, would you like to continue to the Pediatric Cardiology ward?" the tour guide said, finally returning her interest on the two teens.

"Yes, please," Dorian said, giving the woman a smile.

Chaol sighed and followed in Dorian's shadow. As Dorian accused him of, Chaol tuned out the chatter of their guide as she showed them around. Sticking his hands back into his jacket pockets, Chaol could feel the smooth surface of his cell phone and the music that he had on it.

He wasn't sure exactly what was going on with him. He went to school, he went home, he did his chores, and he practiced his guitar. He did everything that was asked of him yet…

Sighing again, he rubbed his temple. He wasn't happy. He felt like he was drifting through life.

He often wondered what he was supposed to do with his life. Dorian had a purpose; after all he was the Crown Prince of Adarlan. He would soon rule a country and needed to know his people. But Chaol didn't have anyone counting on him. His father practically gave up on Chaol for not wanting to go into politics. Yet his mother would love for him to come home from school more often. And his little brother just wished his father would stop focusing on him just once so he could actually have some fun.

Chaol wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring at the speckled floor titles, before he was interrupted by a soft female accented voice.

"Excuse me sir."

Startled, Chaol looked up and saw a nurse in red scrubs pushing a blonde girl in a wheelchair. The nurse had a kind smile on her face even though Chaol was stopping her from doing her job.

"Sorry," Chaol mumbled and stepped out of the open door way.

"Thanks."

Chaol watched as the nurse pushed the patient into the room and helped her get into bed. The nurse helped reconnect lines and the room was filled with the rhythmic beeping sound of a heart monitor.

"Your next dose of medications is in about an hour," the nurse said, folding up the wheelchair and moving it to one side. After everything was completed to her satisfaction, she asked, "Do you need anything now though?"

The girl, dressed in a faded blue sweatshirt and pants, simply shook her head and settled back into bed.

"I think," the girl said, her voice soft and breathless, "I may take a nap. You can wake me up then."

"Okay, sweetheart," the nurse, smiled softly down at her and brushed a blonde lock of hair that had pulled free of her braid out of her eyes.

Chaol didn't say anything as the nurse walked towards him and stopped just beside him to look back at the girl, whose eyes were already closed as she leaned back to rest against the slightly elevated stack of pillows.

"What's wrong with her?" Chaol asked softly, looking at the nurse.

The woman, probably no older than twenty-five, looked up at Chaol. With her exotic caramel skin, her eyes were so alluring and so dark that Chaol couldn't tell if they were brown or black even if he had time to study them more.

"You know I can't tell you that," the nurse said gently, holding her gaze steady on Chaol.

"Right," Chaol realizing what exactly she was saying. He glanced back at the girl who was now curled up on her side.

The nurse laid a hand on his forearm bringing Chaol's attention back to her.

"Let me put it like this: She is in need of a miracle."

Chaol swallowed, imagining what the girl could exactly be in need of a miracle for, and glanced quickly at the nurse's badge that was clipped to her scrub top.

"Thank you Ms. Ytger," Chaol said, trying to give nurse a smile but it felt a bit forced.

"Nehemia," the nurse said, returning the smile. "You can call me Nehemia."

Chaol repeated her name and his thanks before the nurse returned to her desk. Chaol was lost in his own thoughts that he didn't realize the girl had turned over and was now facing him, her eyes wide open.

"I need a heart," she said with very little feeling, as if she was okay with the fact that she was dying.

"A heart?" Chaol asked, confused.

The girl nodded and then pointed to the wheelchair that she had abandoned a few minutes ago. "Sit. I'm getting a headache looking up at you," she commanded.

Chaol awkwardly went to the wheelchair, opened it again and then sat down in it. He felt a bit ridiculous sitting here like this, talking to some girl knocking on God's door, someone that was a complete stranger to him.

"A heart transplant," the girl said. "I need of one but sadly hearts a little short of order."

"I'm sorry," Chaol said, unsure of what else to say.

The girl remained quiet for a moment before looking at him, the heart monitor the only sound that could be heard.

"I was never sick," the girl said, staring above Chaol's shoulder. "I was pretty active as a kid and could never really sit still. And then just after my 15th birthday, I started feeling weird. I suddenly wasn't able to do things like I use to. I started having trouble breathing and sometimes with stomach pain. My doctor couldn't really find anything wrong, not that he was actually looking at the right organ. It wasn't until I became dizzy, passed out and hit my head on the corner of the coffee table did someone find out what was wrong with me."

She looked at him then, her blue eyes flat and void of any emotion. "I originally had a viral infection that caused inflammation of my heart muscle. Because of that my heart muscle has thinned out and one of my ventricles is too enlarged that it can't pump blood correctly.

"Originally doctors thought that I would make a full recovery, live a normal life. But two weeks after I was sent home, I went into cardiac arrest." She paused for a moment here, lost in her own thoughts, just staring at Chaol but not really seeing him. She blinked once, twice and her eyes refocused on him. "Anyways, my heart is too damaged, even with these devices they've implanted in me. It's only a matter of time."

Chaol didn't know exactly what to say to her. Did he say 'sorry' or 'I'm sure you'll be okay?'

"I'm Chaol Westfall," he said instead, offering her his hand.

The girl looked at his hand and then back at him, astonishment flashing in her eyes. Her eyes, Chaol noticed, though blue like the waters of Silver Lake—the longing of home seizing at his heart—had just a faintest ring of gold near her pupil. He hadn't seen it before but then again he hadn't been looking at them before.

"Celaena," she said, slowly reaching out and taking his hand, her IV swinging as it moved with the hand it was attached to. "Celaena Sardothien."

They had just released each other's hand when there was a knock on the door.

"There you are," Dorian said, walking into the room, one hand stuffed into a pant pocket. "I was wondering where you disappeared to."

"Sorry," Chaol said, standing from the wheelchair. "I, uh, got distracted."

"Mmhmm," Dorian said, smirking as his eyes darted to Celaena and then back at Chaol. "Since you weren't there for the rest of the tour through the Neurology and Nephology wards, are you ready to go then? Mother wants me home in time for the banquet at the Royal Museum of Science and History tonight."

"I miss going to the RMSH," Celaena said, rolling slowly so that she was laying on her back again. She was smiling slightly at Dorian. "My favorite section was that little area were you could dig up those fake dinosaur bones."

Dorian laughed. "God, I totally forgot about that."

"I didn't," Chaol said, glaring at Dorian. "You shoved sand down my pants in Grade School."

Celaena laughed out loud before it turned into a cough, her heart monitor sounding a different sound as it showed heart EKG go into a frantic pace.

The nurse before, Nehemia, came rushing into the room, pushing Dorian out of the way. She was barking out an order to another nurse who was hot on her heels.

"Breathe Celaena," Nehemia said, snatching an oxygen mask off the wall and placing it over Celaena's mouth and nose. "Come on, slow deep breaths."

The male nurse, meanwhile, was filling a needle with some sort of clear medication from a vial that he had brought with him. He verified the amount and Nehemia glanced up and nodded at him when he showed her the needle. With a few quick taps against the side of the needle, he put aside the medicine vial and administrated the drug into Celaena's IV line.

"Gods above," Dorian whispered, having gone to Chaol's side while the whole scene unfolded.

Chaol wasn't exactly sure how long he and Dorian stood to the side watching. The male nurse had gone to the computer stationed within the room and started documenting what happened. Nehemia soothingly brushed Celaena's hair as she held the mask to Celaena's face until the girl was able on her own to hold the mask herself. But eventually the heart monitor finally stopped the alert call and Celaena's EKG on the screen showed a slower rhythm.

Celaena ripped the mask off her face, her eye lids drooping slightly, and cussed.

"Damn it, I hate this. I hate being like this so damn much," she cried, resting her cheek on her pillow.

Nehemia said something that Chaol didn't recognize and kept brushing her hair till Celaena finally fell asleep.

*IRM*

Chaol scrapped his shoes against the welcome mat of the hospital in hopes that he managed to dry the soles of his shoes well enough not to squeak down the hall. Sadly no such luck since he sounded like a demented mouse each time his shoes squeaked against the tile floors.

It had been raining all day, which was okay with Chaol. He wasn't in much of a good mood after the more recent argument with his father. His father didn't like the fact that Chaol was spending so much time messing with his guitar instead of doing any extracurricular activities that would make his college application shine. He had to get out of the house so he decided that he might visit Celaena.

It had been a week since he first meet Celaena and he would come periodically to come and visit her. She didn't have another episode like she did that first day, but she wasn't improving and neither did her place on the transplant list. He would sometimes bring her a new book, which she would finish by the next day considering she spends her entire day in a hospital bed, or a new movie that the hospital didn't have in their stash of DVDs.

He learned that Celaena was an honors student, taking her classes over the computer and with a private tutor. She had a passion for fashion and for food. And he also learned that Celaena love to argue with him, with her nurses, doctors, social works, really just about anyone who didn't agree with what she wanted.

And that was exactly how Chaol found her, bickering with Nehemia about a certain dress color that a starlet wore the night before at some big award show.

"Oh God, no," Celaena said, shaking her head as Nehemia readied her next IV medication dose. "It was a total wash on her. I seriously think her stylist was either blind, a four year old or was playing a prank because there is no way that any shade of orange should have gone on her."

"But it was a beautiful dress," Nehemia said, raising the vital and needle up to eye level to measure the correct amount of medication.

"Just because the dress was beautiful does not mean that it was beautiful on her," Celaena pointed out.

Nehemia was about reply when she noticed Chaol standing in the door way.

"Well howdy stranger," Nehemia said, smiling. Chaol had to smile himself. Nehemia sounded slightly odd saying "howdy" in that accent of hers.

"Hi Nehemia," Chaol said, walking over to the chair that was added to Celaena's room after Chaol's second visit to see Celaena. "She still being feisty?"

Celaena glared at Chaol as Nehemia laughed, nodding at him as she gave the needle a few taps to remove any bubbles.

Chaol sat down and watched as Nehemia injected the medication into Celaena's line. "Alright, you know the drill."

"Yeah, yeah," Celaena said, rolling her eyes. "Page you if I am having any side effects or in need of that PRN medication."

Nehemia gave Celaena a smile, pleased at her response, before leaving the room to go check on other patients.

"So, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Celaena asked, laying back in her elevated bed.

"Family stuff," Chaol said, rubbing the back of neck.

"I see."

Chaol sat there for a moment, unsure of what he should say. More importantly, he couldn't exactly figure out how to put into words what he wanted to say.

"I've been arguing with my father," Chaol said, eyeing the IV bag just behind Celaena like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

"About you not going into politics?"

"More or less. He doesn't understand how it just doesn't interest me."

"You mean sitting on your ass all day, get paid thousands to represent the people elected who you and yet do nothing to bring their issues to light. You mean that doesn't interest you?" Celaena ask in mock horror, bring a hand up to her chest.

Chaol snorted.

"Funny," Chaol said. Celaena earned him a smirk.

"You know I'm right about what politicians do." Celaena sighed and stretched her neck to one side. "God, if I had that type of power, I'd do anything to make a difference."

Chaol blinked. "You could still make a difference."

Celaena rolled her eyes and stretched her neck the other direction.

"I'm serious," Chaol said sharply. He didn't like the negative attitude Celaena had when it came to getting that heart she needed.

"Well so am I," Celaena said, glaring at him.

Chaol blinked.

"God Chaol," Celaena said, the balling hospital linen in her fists. "You are such a fucking idiot sometimes. How many—" Celaena's heart monitor gave a warning beep "—people have been in pain, suffering, tormented? How many of them have been turned away by society, by those who don't care for anything unless there is something in it for them? How many times did you walk right by the chance to make a difference?"

Celaena rubbed her eyes harshly and inhaled through her nose, trying to bring down her heart rate. Chaol wasn't surprised to see Nehemia leaning against the door post.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, one hand propped on a hip.

"Yeah," Celaena said, nodding her head slowly. "Chaol is just being a total buffoon."

Nehemia snorted but left the room once she checked the EKG records and made notes on the computer.

Chaol had pulled out his headsets again, fiddling with the plastic bud.

"I'm sorry," Chaol whispered, feeling it was the best thing he could say at this particular moment.

Celaena, who eyes were dropping closed in fatigue, mumbled some sort of response but Chaol didn't getting a chance to inquire about what she had said before she was asleep.

*IRM*

Chaol was standing beside Dorian as he joked with other students in the hallway. Neither boys were in much of a hurry to get to their next class.

_"You're such a fucking idiot…"_

_"How many times did you walk right by…"_

Chaol rolled a bead on the custom keychain he had received from a child at the Children's Hospital. He wasn't sure what made him keep the keychain. Maybe how the child, who was currently undergoing a round of chemotherapy, smiled at him as she crafted the beads onto the string. And while he wasn't normally the type of guy to carry around pink and glitter, he couldn't take it off his set of keys.

Thinking of the Children's Hospital, Chaol hadn't seen Celaena since her outburst on Monday. On Tuesday, her cardiologist was with her. On Wednesday, Dorian had kept him at the library for a group project he had forgotten about. And yesterday, Celaena was at the Radiology department having another echocardiogram. So Chaol was hoping he could see her today, come hell or high water.

_"You're such a fucking idiot…"_

_"How many times did you walk right by…"_

Chaol sighed and closed his eyes, his fingers stopped their fidgeting. He couldn't get her words out of his mind. She was right, damn it. He had been an idiot. He spent the rest of the night, pushing around his dinner till it was a large mash of different cold foods, thinking about how he could be different. Be the person he wanted to be. Sure he would be pleasing his parents by getting into politics, but he could change things to help the –

Chaol nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the crash against metal followed by the snickering of students.

About fifty feet away, a freshman boy was only in his tidy whites and a towel that wasn't covering much of them. Standing around and mocking him where three of the worst footballers. Chaol, like Dorian, fit into almost clique and he didn't mind majority of the players on the team, but these three were tormentors. They targeted the weak like the freshmen, those that were into things like the Science Club or Math Athletes, and basically anyone who wasn't popular or into the same things they were.

Bullies. Chaol could remember, years ago, when he had his own share of bullies.

_He cringed as he heard that awful voice._

_"Hey Westfall, you're walking. Don't you want to honor—" Chaol tensed "—your name."_

_With a hard push from behind, Chaol went head first into the small classroom lockers. Chaol could feel the start of tears forming in his eyes as his head exploded with pain when it clashed with the harsh metal. Chaol slowly tried to turn over, attempting to get away._

_"Oh no, you forgot your water!" Chaol gasped as he felt the icy cold water hit his groin._

_Chaol's lower lip quivered as he looked up at saw Richard Dickerson grinning over him._

_"Ah, poor Chaol," Richard said, attempting at sorrow. "Did you wet yourself?"_

_A few of Chaol's classmates snickered as Richard reached for the few books that Chaol had left on his desk._

_"Here, I'm sure you are going to need these—" Chaol covered his face as he saw Richard slowly let the books slip from his fingers "—to cover yourself up."_

_Chaol cried out as the books hit him in the groin and curled up in a ball. Tears were flowing from his closed eyes as he wished he was at home, that he never went to school today. And lastly, he wished someone would just stick up for him._

_And that's when he heard an unfamiliar voice speak out._

_"Hey you, jerk face, why don't you pick on someone your own size!"_

_Chaol opened his eyes just in time to see a boy with black hair that stuck up in all directions punch Richard square in the jaw._

_"What in the world is going on here?" said Chaol's favorite teacher, Ms. Boyers, entering the classroom with their actual teacher Mr. Andrews on her heels._

_"He punched me!" Richard cried out, pointing one finger at the new kid, his other hand clutching his face where the boy had hit him._

_"He's a bully!" the boy said, crossing his arms. "He pushed this kid, poured water on him and then dropped a book on him. And I don't think this is the first time either."_

_Ms. Boyers' eyes flashed wide and then narrowed at Mr. Andrews._

_"Mr. Andrews is this true?" she asked him. "Do you have a bully in your classroom and have done nothing to stop him?"_

_Mr. Andrews made a few tempts to try and make his case before Ms. Boyers raised one hand and said, "Enough! I've heard just about enough. Sidney, go get the principal please. Oh and the nurse if she is free."_

_A little red head girl that stood near the door nodded and raced to the front office._

_"You," Ms. Boyers said, pointing at the new kid, "help Mr. Westfall up."_

_"Here, easy does it," the new kid said, helping Chaol to a sitting position first and then to his own two feet. Chaol's arm was wrapped around the kid's shoulders as he steadied him to his chair._

_"What's your name?" the kid asked. Chaol could barely hear him over Ms. Boyers who was ripping Mr. Andrews a new one in front of the principal who just arrived._

_"Chaol."_

_The kid smiled. "Well Chaol, I'm Dorian. I hope you don't mind having me as a friend."_

_For the first time that day, Chaol smiled slightly. "I would be honored to call you as a friend."_

Chaol blinked as the memory faded. He couldn't remember exactly what Dorian's punishment was for punching Richard, who ended up moving at the end of the school year. He could remember Celaena's words though.

_"How many times did you walk right by the chance to make a difference?"_

Dorian sighed. "God I hate those three. I can't see how they are still on the damn team. Here," Dorian said, handing Chaol his bag. "I'll go deal with those morons."

_"How many times did you walk right by the chance to make a difference?"_

"To make a difference," Chaol whispered, watching the freshman, now crying, try to get his clothes back from his tormentors who were passing his uniform back and forth like a game of hot potato.

"Chaol?" Dorian said, concern written all over his face.

Chaol's messenger bag slipped from his shoulder and his soul left like it was unburdened.

"No," Chaol said, his jaw set as he stalked towards one of the athletes.

Chaol wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do, but he didn't have much time to think as he intercepted the freshman's uniform in midair as it was getting tossed again.

"Hey what the—" the receiving jock said, confused.

"That's enough," Chaol said, giving the freshman his clothes.

"Thanks," the kid said, his lower lip quivering as he held his clothes to his chest and hurried back to the locker room.

"God, Westfall, you are such a buzz kill," one of the footballers, Alex Pugman grumbled.

"No, you are a buzz kill and a damn bully." Chaol could feel his temper flaring.

"Excuse me?" another footballer, this one beefed with muscles as thick as Chaol's head, said, glaring at Chaol.

"You heard me. You are trying to compensating for the fact that you are subpar athletes that only get to play because you cheat off of Bianca who is scared of you. The only way that you get into parties is because of your positions on the Champion football team, despite the fact you only get to play for three minutes a game. You have no one you can call as a friend so you spend your time creating pranks to be in the center of attention.

"But you know what, people don't like nor care about you," Chaol said. "And we're tired of seeing you three pick on people who can't defend themselves against you."

Alex was glaring at Chaol, his face red with rage.

"You're lucky that you are Prince Dorian's best friend or your face would be pulp right now," he muttered, taking a step towards Chaol.

"Yeah, you're right. I am lucky to have Dorian as a best friend but that doesn't mean I use his status as Prince to get away with things like you three use your muscles, lack of brains and status as athletes to get what you want."

Alex growled and pulled back his arm, his hand balled into a fist, and threw a punch in Chaol's direction. But what Alex didn't know was Chaol spent years after he meet Dorian taking self-defense classes.

In a matter of three steps, Chaol parried Alex's fist away from him, and brought up his other arm to hold the arm away as well as turning into position in order to drive the elbow from the arm that first blocked the punch into Alex's chest.

Studded, Alex grunted and fell backwards onto the hallway floor. The two that were with Alex, scuttled away, their jaws wide open in shock. Dorian, witnessing the entire thing, laughed out as Alex looked like he was about to cry.

"Be thankful that I didn't go for your crotch," Chaol muttered, rolling his eyes as he stepped over Alex, who cringed as Chaol's foot came within a breath's distance from his nose, and walked back over to Dorian.

"What is going on here?!" the vice principal shouted as he hustled towards the scene, students parting for him.

"Nice one," Dorian said, giving Chaol a fist bump.

"Hey do you remember what your punishment was?" Chaol asked.

Dorian blinked. "For which event?"

"The first day you meet me, when you punched Richard?"

Chaol could faintly hear the athletes complain about how Chaol attacked Alex and the grumbles of students around them disagreeing with them. But what he really heard was Dorian laughing.

"Oh my God, I totally forgot about that day," he said, smiling. "I had to reorganize the library stacks after the kindergarten kids messed them up during the book sale. I actually liked doing that, was probably one of the best punishments I've ever had to do."

Chaol smiled and shook his head. Of course, even ten years ago, at the age of seven, book worm Dorian didn't mind spending more time in the library.

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**I hope that you enjoyed this. But I would like to note that even though this is fictional, there are real people who are experiencing a life and death situation, that are the victims of bullying. I tried to write these scenes with the utmost care and with the respect that these people deserve. And I hope that if you witness someone being bullied, either physically, emotionally, or even cyberbullying that you take a stand to stop it. By not saying anything, you are saying A LOT to the victim. Also, if you can be a DONOR, either blood or organ, be one. You can be a personal hero to someone. (And that's my PSA!)**

**Many Hugs,  
Nollie**

**Playlist for this chapter: Evanescence "Bring Me to Life" — Katy Perry "Wide Awake" — The Wanted "Heart Vacancy" — Swedish House Mafia "Save the World"**

For more of my Throne of Glass fan fictions, just replace the word dot with an actual period: nolliemarie dot tumblr dot com/tagged/My-FanFics


	2. Chapter Two: Wake Me Up

**Disclaimer:**** Sarah J. Maas owns Celaena, Dorian, Chaol (although really, can anyone say they own Celaena?) and all things Throne of Glass. I own a pair of Bluetooth headsets that are attached to me at all times. Oh and this idea!**

**WARNING! This chapter is the reason why this story is a T-rating. It contains mild cursing, small amount of violence, and abuse. If you do not feel comfortable reading scenes like theses, please do ****not**** read this then. If you do decide to read this, you **_**may**_** need a tissue. Or two.**

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Chapter Two: Wake Me Up

"_So wake me up when it's all over  
When I'm wiser and I'm older  
All this time I was finding myself  
And I didn't know I was lost."  
Avicii, "Wake Me Up"_

Dorian yanked the tie of his school uniform loose and made his way to the volunteer office. It had been two weeks since his first visit with Chaol. And while Dorian wasn't a regular visitor at the Royal Children's Hospital like Chaol was, he did come periodically once or twice a week to do some sort of volunteering. Dorian mostly went to please his parents, but also to get away from the responsibilities that were weighing his shoulders. He didn't have to smile for the camera, didn't have to show any interest in whatever a Lord or Lady was trying to say in order to persuade him to their cause or for his vote.

But he also came here because he did find some enjoyment. Yes, he was painted on by a little girl, Amy, in the play room in the Nephrology ward. He didn't mind in the slightest that he had a puppy drawn on his left cheek after he saw that Chaol, who had tagged along with him when Celaena was down in the Radiology department, was being attacked with pink finger paint and glitter by a curly haired seven year old named Linnea. Dorian even took home a blue beaded keychain from another patient, Ariella, when she offered him one just before he left. Chaol's reaction when Ariella gave Chaol a pink and glittery one was priceless. Though he did keep his promise and left the keychain on his car keys.

"Well good afternoon, Your Highness," the volunteer coordinator said, smiling up at Dorian as he entered the small, cramped office.

"Afternoon Susan," Dorian said, leaning over the volunteer binder and started jotting down the time besides the name of 'Douglas McDonald.' He always snorted when he saw the fake name the volunteer's office had him under. "Where would you like me to volunteer tonight?"

"I thought we could have you visiting with parents of the children in the NICU."

"For any particular reason?"

Susan shook her head. "Just a kind of meet and greet with them. See what worries they have, maybe comfort them if they need it. You'll be surprised how often people are amazed that sometimes it's the parents are in need of the comforting."

Dorian nodded and informed Susan that he'll be back later to sign out his time.

The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, or just simply known as the NICU, was on the same floor as the Pediatric ICU. Dorian didn't understand the difference at first when he first toured the hospital. And then he realized that the NICU had strictly premature or very sick newborns while the PICU could hold any patient of any age. Both wards often pulled on his heartstrings when he heard stories from other volunteers and nurses.

Dorian had just reached the ICU floor, making the right turn for the NICU, when he came to a stop.

There, sitting before the windows of the NICU, was Celaena Sardothien. Dorian had meet Celaena a few times, including the first visit when he was being shown around the hospital. She was a cardiac patient who was in need of a heart transplant since her own heart was failing after an illness and a setback after she had been discharge home the first time.

He had heard a few stories from Chaol about the numerous times she would bicker with him and the medical staff just for kicks. Though they never bickered the few times he actually did get to chat with her. In fact they usually talked about books, often boring Chaol to tears. But Dorian didn't usually see her outside of her room.

"Celaena?" Dorian asked, stuffing a hand into his uniform jacket pocket.

Celaena blinked once and then turned in his direction.

"Oh, hi," Celaena said, blushing as she reached up to brush a blonde lock behind her ear. Her IV attached to her hand was connected to an IV bag that was hanging from a pole attached to her chair. Her heart monitor was sitting on her lap letting out a beeping sound that Dorian knew meant it was using battery power instead of something going on with Celaena's heart.

"What are you doing out here by yourself? Where's Nehemia?" Dorian knew Nehemia just well enough that she was like a mama bear protecting her cub when it came to Celaena.

"I wanted to see the babies," Celaena said softly, her blue and gold eyes turned back towards the window. "These are some of the sickest ones."

Dorian glanced inside the room, noting that most of the incubators were currently holding babies. Some children were instead in the open cribs that were closest to the window. Parents, one if not both, were always nearby, watching which ever child was theirs. Dorian noted one mother was crying as she slowly inserted her hand into one of the incubators to touch her baby no bigger than her palm. Nurses in scrubs, which were spotted with miniature Disney characters, were spread about the room and they were also taking notes on the NICU computers.

"All of these babies had to be transferred here," Dorian noted, remembering something the tour guide had mentioned that first day here.

Celaena nodded, her eyes on the far corner. Dorian looking in the same direction and watched as a nurse joined quite a few people surrounding one of the incubators, and pulled the two dividing curtains close for privacy.

"What's going on over there?" he asked, not sure exactly who was standing over there. However, there was such just a big enough gap between curtains that Dorian could make out two hospital security officers and a police officer.

"I'm not sure, but by the way that one of the security officers is holding back a woman, I think that Child Protective Services is taking away the baby," Celaena muttered, her hands grasping at the heart monitor's handle. Dorian took a sly glance at the monitor's screen and noted a small spike in it.

"Do I need to remind you of your breathing exercises?" Dorian asked, concerned.

Celaena snorted and her hands loosened their death grip on the plastic handle.

"You know," Celaena said, turning to look Dorian head on, "It makes me so mad that some people would give anything, even their own lives, to have a child of their own and yet they can never ever have one. And then there are scum out there who can have precious children and yet they abuse their own bodies with drugs and alcohol not giving a damn that they are abusing their child before they were even born. It's not fair."

Celaena turned her eyes back towards the scene as the police and security officers removed the woman into the hallway by force. Dorian and Celaena kept their eyes trained towards the babies in front of them as the woman started screaming in the hallway about how they couldn't take her baby, that she didn't know how the drug got into her system, and that her boyfriend must have paid the hospital staff to lie about her drug use.

"Did you know," Celaena whispered nervously, like she wasn't sure exactly how much she should tell Dorian about what she was going to say, "that Adarlan has one of the worst foster care and adoption records? Or that so many families from Wendlyn used to take in children from Adarlan, seeing the children as a blessing from God, before the embargo was set against Wendlyn? Now no one can travel to Wendlyn on an Adarlan passport. If you try, a red flag will be raised and you will get deported back to Adarlan. Not enough families in Adarlan are willing to adopt now and even fewer families are willing to be a foster home. So many children die in this place from malnourishment or some kind of abuse."

Dorian blinked. He knew that his father had set an embargo against travels to Wendlyn, the greatest threat to Adarlan's rule over the entire continent of Erilea. However, he didn't know that his country had one of the worst foster care systems for an industrialized country.

"How do you know that?" Dorian asked, almost dreading the answer he knew was coming.

Celaena smiled softly, a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"I know from firsthand experience," she said, looking away.

Dorian didn't have time to ask what she meant before Nehemia rounded the corner.

"There you are," she said to Celaena. "Are you ready to head back to your room? It's almost time for your next dose of medication."

Dorian didn't get a chance to say goodnight to Celaena before she replied to Nehemia, and the two left him staring at the window as he watched a flutter of medical staff hurry back to the baby before. And he remained there still, not really seeing anything, as he stared through the small crack in the curtains as the physician called the time of death and a father was left grieving for the loss of his child.

*IRM*

Dorian was sitting in the backseat of the family car on his way to another gala. His parents were sitting across from him, making small talk about Dorian's younger brother who was about to get kicked out of another boarding school.

Dorian was trying to remember everything that his parent's secretary had told him about this gala. Something about trying to raise the funding for some non-profit organization aiming to bring more of the arts into the lives of children after many of the school districts in Adarlan had to cut their art budgets. He didn't have a real passion for the cause but something about the event that happened earlier at hospital was clinging to his conscience. He couldn't exactly say what it was though.

Dorian blinked when he realized that his mother was addressing him.

"Sorry?" he said, inhaling and giving his mother a smile. "I was in my own thoughts there for a second."

His father grunted but didn't say anything about how addlebrained his son was. Dorian swallowed the bitter taste of disappointment and looked out the window.

"I asked how has your volunteer services been at the hospital," his mother said, giving him an encouraging smile.

"Good. I never realize how much the youth of Adarlan looks up to the Royal family," Dorian said.

It was true. Over the visits, he had come to find some enjoyment spending time with children. He got a sense of what his country's future will need. It also gave him some encouragement that he needed to know he could possibly make a difference.

He knew that his entire life was handed to him on a gold platter and served to him on a silver spoon. He never had to struggle for anything his entire life. And his eyes had been open to the depth of pain, sorrow, and even joy.

"Blast it boy! Of course they look up to us," his father grumbled. "We are their rulers who govern them. Give them the power to rule and Adarlan would go to hell."

Dorian blinked at his father.

"The citizens of Adarlan couldn't rule themselves?"

His father's eyes hardened and Dorian knew that if his mother wasn't here that he would be a receiving a good tongue lashing.

"If it weren't for the Havilliard family, this country would have been reduced to ashes and dust."

Dorian's mother sighed. "Dear, can we please not talk politics? We are supposed to help raise funds for children to have more access to the arts."

"Please, the money would had better uses funding our military efforts against Wendlyn."

Dorian was thankful that they arrived at their destination so he didn't have to respond back.

Right away, Dorian was blinded by the thousands of camera flashes and his public smile was on his face in a matter of seconds for the media's benefit. He turned back and helped his mother out of the car. There was a flash of surprise in her eyes before she smiled back at him. His mother then reached up and held his cheek; Dorian saw her love for her son shine back at him.

His father ruined the moment by grunting and his mother pulled away from Dorian to link her arms with his father. While his parents refused to talk to the media, Dorian allowed his parent's media director to guide him towards the hungry mob of news and entertainment personnel.

Most of the questions were pretty repetitive, "How are you, Your Highness?" "Your Highness, what made you decide to take part in this fundraiser?" "How do you feel about how the war with Wendlyn has gone so far?" "Any decisions on where you will be attending university yet, Your Highness?" Dorian felt like he was suffocating as he finally finished working the media line.

"Would you like to meet a few of the public that turned up tonight, Your Highness?" asked his parent's media director. He felt horrible that he couldn't remember his blasted name.

"People turned up?" Dorian asked, pulling on his shirt sleeves under his jacket. Under the hot lights of thousand cameras, Dorian felt like he was melting under his jacket.

Tonight's gala wasn't open to the public so it was a bit of a surprise that a few of Adarlan's citizens showed up.

"A few of the kids from one of the local groups that this fundraiser will be helping."

"Ah, well then, please," Dorian said, motioning for media director to show him towards the people who came out tonight.

Sure enough, in a little space between the end of the Media section and the building where the gala was being held, there was three children. The eldest looked to be about his age. In her arms was the youngest, probably no older than three. The last child, about the age of six, was waving crazily as she noticed Dorian was walking their way.

"Hi girls," Dorian said, giving the three the first genuine smile of the night.

"Hi Prince Dorian," said the girl who had been waving at him.

Dorian squatted before her, his eyes level with her own dark ones.

"Let me guess," Dorian said, touching a finger to his lips playfully. "Snow White?" He pointed to the girl who greeted him.

Dorian didn't think his smile could have grown any more as he watched the little girl cover her mouth with two hands and giggled.

"No silly," she said. "I'm Saorla."

"Really?" Dorian couldn't help but give her a fake puzzling look. "I could have sworn you were Snow White. And aren't your two friends here Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty?"

Dorian looked up to see the elder smile back at him, a blush staining her cheeks. The youngest though ducked her head against shoulder of the girl, her dark hair covering her face.

Saorla giggled again, shaking her head. "Nope, that's Emily and she's holding my sister Sorcha."

"Are you sure you aren't princesses?"

"Only if you marry me."

"I think you are a little too young to be a bride, my sweet Saorla," Emily said as she bounced Sorcha in her arms.

Saorla leaned in and Dorian offered her his ear to whisper into.

"Emily says I can't date anyone till I'm seventy," she said. "You'll wait for me right?"

Dorian wanted so badly to laugh.

"Sadly little princess," Dorian said, giving her a pout. "I'll probably have to marry before then."

Saorla sighed and put her hands on her hips. "I guess you are going to have to scare off all my playground boyfriends then."

"Saorla," Emily gasped as Dorian actually did laugh at how serious the six year old was.

"How about I could invite you three to be my dates for tonight instead?" Dorian asked, nodding his head in the direction of the front door of the gala.

"Really?" Emily asked, her eyes wide with surprise. "Are you sure? Because we don't want to be a bother."

"Of course," Dorian said, standing up. "I'm not sure exactly how much fun it will be, but if I remember correctly, the organizers were planning on showcasing what they planned to do with the money raised. Why not have children give their advice all things considering?"

"Please, Emily, please!" Saorla pleaded, tugged on the hem of Emily's blue shirt.

"I promised Mrs. Hogfrats that I would have you two back by bedtime," Emily said, unsure.

"When is that exactly?" Dorian asked.

"Eight-thirty."

"It's only seven right now, Your Highness," the Royal Media Director said. "You could have them home by fifteen after the hour if they joined us."

Emily looked down at Saorla who was giving her the biggest puppy eyes Dorian had ever seen. And Emily was putty to them as she said yes.

*IRM*

Sorcha finally warmed up to Dorian and the other guests. Even when she was held in his own mother's arms, a fact that his father didn't like. She was currently playing with Saorla at a small sand table. Dorian wasn't exactly sure, but he believed that the vice president of the non-profit organization was also sitting with them, her hands help smooth out a mountain of sand Sorcha had built.

The youngest two were having a ball trying out all the new ideas that the organization had for bring arts back into the classrooms. In fact, Dorian was willing to bet that many of the guests donated to the cause just because of the two. Emily, on the other hand, was a mother bear. She didn't participate in the fun, but remained nearby in case anything happened.

And that was where Dorian found her, just hovering like a hummingbird near Saorla and Sorcha, chewing worriedly on her thumbnail.

"So how long have you been Saorla and Sorcha's babysitter?" Dorian asked, startling Emily. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I was in my own world. Actually, I'm not their babysitter."

Dorian blinked, confused. Emily must have seen his reaction because she smiled softly at him.

"We're actually living at the same foster home," she said, looking back at Sorcha, who was climbing into the lap of the vice president.

Dorian felt his stomach lurch as Celaena's words floated through his brain.

"_Did you know that Adarlan has one of the worse foster care and adoption records?"_

"Oh?" Dorian said. "How long have you been in the foster care?"

"It's complicated," Emily said, turning to look at Dorian. "I've actually been in the foster care system most of my life, but two years ago I had been adopted. Most kids my age don't often get adopted; the younger ones usually have a better chance. But the man who adopted me had just lost his wife and newborn baby in a car accident about year and a half before he took me in. The thought of holding another baby was too painful for him, so he was looking for an older child. I was taking care of some of the other kids when we were first introduced to each other and we kind of just clicked.

"Being able to say I had a home was a beautiful dream, one I had stopped dreaming of a long time ago," she said, looking away to smile at the giggling Saorla. "And he was a good man, someone whom I had started to call Father…but he was in the military and had received orders to go fight against Wendlyn. Because he had no other family to watch me, I ended up back at the foster home of Mr. and Mrs. Hogfrats. It's where I'll remain until he comes home, but it's been two years."

Emily reached up and brushed at her eyes. That's when Dorian noticed that there was tears in her eyes.

"Someone in the military has been in contact with me a few times. At first they were afraid that he was taken as a prisoner of war, but now they think he's dead." Emily looked up at Dorian and put a hand to her heart. "But I know he's not dead. In my heart I know he isn't, but they stopped looking for him. I received his medal of honor that Adarlan gives to the families of their fallen service men, but I refuse to give up hope like the way his country did on him.

"So while I wait for him to come home, I protect the little ones," she said, looking back at two little girls.

Dorian took in her small smile and turned to look at the two little girls as well. Sorcha and the vice president were in giggles as Saorla braided the white beard of another gala patron.

*IRM*

Dorian wasn't sure exactly how long he had been staring at the same page. He had originally came to the Royal Library in the Glass Castle that was his home to research the rules, guidelines and laws of his country. There were quite a few heavy books on them, some of which hadn't been updated in many years. Some of the laws in fact hadn't been updated in years either now that Dorian thought about it. But he knew there had to be something in one of these books that could help Dorian.

Celaena was right. There were many guidelines for adoption and foster homes, which could be a good thing as well as a bad thing. Dorian pulled forward the paper he printed out from the collection of census records and stared once again, not quite believing the words before him. Of all the children under 18 in the country, the number of children in foster care was unbelievable. He couldn't believe that this was his country, his people, and he didn't know.

"There you are," Chaol said, rounding the corner. "I have been looking everywhere for you."

"Hey, did you find anything about what I asked you?" Dorian said, laying aside the paper to look up at his friend.

"My father made an inquiry to the Department of Military Defense and they confirmed that Wendlyn has prisoners of war," Chaol said, sitting across from Dorian. "However, you know how your father feels about bargaining with the enemy."

Dorian leaned back in his seat and drummed his fingers on the table.

"I know," Dorian said, his resolve settling in mind. "But something needs to be done."

*IRM*

"Damn it Dorian," Chaol hissed as they waited in the Military Communication Center as top military officials got the correct feeds and connections ready for Dorian's video conference. "You know this is going to get back to your father."

"Are we online yet?" Dorian asked, ignoring Chaol and his worries.

"A few more minutes, Your Highness," the girl at the controls said, typing away. "We are just waiting for the signal from Wendlyn to come through."

"Dorian, stop and think for just a minute about what you are doing here," Chaol pleaded.

"I have," Dorian said, staring at the black screen before him.

"We have a signal," the girl said, pushing her chair to the left and flipping switches.

Dorian stood straighter as the black screen flickered for a moment before the picture feed came through.

"Well, this is a surprise," said blonde hair man, giving Dorian a cocky smirk. One that made Dorian think of Celaena. "When my aid said the Crown Prince of Adarlan was on the line, I thought they were joking."

"Good to see that the military allowed you to keep your girlie hair," Dorian said as a greeting.

Chaol sighed and Dorian could vision him pinching his nose. Prince Aedion Ashryver, the highest commanding General in the Wendlyn military, reclined in his seat.

"You wish you could have this wonderful hair," Aedion said.

"Remind me once the embargo is lifted to send you a few barrettes."

"So, what's the purpose of this call? Don't tell me your father is giving up his attempt to invade Wendlyn?"

"You know world domination is his primary goal in life."

"Dorian," Chaol said, in warning.

Aedion squinted. "Ah, I see you have your faithful sidekick at your side."

"He's more of a pain in the ass than a sidekick, but yes, he is ever the faithful one."

"Dorian," Chaol said, frustration lacing his words.

"See what I mean?" Dorian said, pointing a thumb in Chaol's direction.

Aedion pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

"The reason for this call is actually to inquire about current Adarlan prisoners of war."

The smirk Aedion had been sporting since the very second he came online now disappeared.

"What of them?" Aedion said, his voice emotionless.

Dorian shoved the uncertainty out of his thoughts.

"I want to know if you are willing to come to an agreement about exchanging POWs."

"Go on."

Dorian's father had made any of the servicemen and women from Wendlyn that his country had captured be sent to hard labor camps in the hot unbearable South where the humidity alone could crush you like a boulder rolling down the dangerous mountains of the North, the other labor camp location. These camps mainly found precious minerals and salt depending on which camp you were at. And it wasn't just POWs at the camps. There were also rebels and criminals located in the camps' caves and underground tunnels.

"I'm proposing that you give our fellow countrymen the proper respect that is due for their services and make a trade. Don't you agree that it's about time that they are able to go home to their families?"

Aedion rubbed at his chin.

"You're serious about this?" he asked. "What if your father says no to this deal?"

Dorian's jaw hardened. "For all I care, anyone against this deal can go to hell! I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make peace between our countries. Enough bloodshed has been spilled on land and at sea."

Aedion remained silent as he watched Dorian for any sign of falsehood.

"All right," Aedion said. "I'll bring this proposal before my father's counsel and our elected leaders. In two days, you'll have our answer. I suggest you…_enlighten_ your father of your traitorous plan in the meantime."

"The only thing I have been a traitor to is the people who look up to me as a leader," Dorian said. "I'll be expecting your answer in two days." And with that, Dorian motioned to the girl at the controls to cut the feed and left the room.

*IRM*

Dorian gave the front door three sharp knocks and stood outside of the foster home that was listed for Emily. It felt premature, but he felt that Emily needed some good news. What better than to tell her that the man who she called father might be coming home.

He didn't wait long before the front door opened, but it wasn't an adult on the other side of door.

"Saorla?" Dorian said, blinking.

There standing at the front door, covered from head to toe in flour, was little six year old Saorla. And she was crying.

"What's the matter Saorla?" Dorian said, kneeling before the little girl.

"Em-em-emily," she said hiccupping, a few set of tears rolling down her little powdered white face.

Dorian opened his mouth and suddenly heard a crash. He stood up and could hear a faint scream.

"Saorla, show me," Dorian said, stepping in the home.

Saorla simply pointed a finger down the hallway before him. It was mostly dark except for a single streak of light coming from behind a closed door. Dorian hurried down the hallway as he heard another crash. Dorian turned the door handle and found the door locked.

"You stupid bitch," a voice growled, sending a shiver down Dorian's spine.

Taking a few steps back, Dorian gave the door the fiercest kick he could muster. The door opened with splintering results as he broke it.

To Dorian's horror, there face down on what seemed to be the kitchen floor was Emily, who was also covered in flour. Her hair was in a mess as it hung awkwardly in a hair tie and her blouse was torn so badly that it didn't cover her shoulder any more. And above her, pulling her black track pants, was a middle age man that Dorian assumed could only be the man who owned the foster home.

"What the—," the man said, looking up wildly, and saw Dorian at the door.

Seeing only red then, Dorian stormed and pulled the man off of Emily. The man stumbled and crashed into the small kitchen table.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" the man said.

Dorian ignored the man as he turned to Emily.

"Oh God, Emily," he said, starting towards the girl who was sobbing on the floor.

Then, just in time, Dorian heard little Saorla cry out, "Dorian watch out!" and he barely avoided a fist that came within brushing distance from his face. Grabbing the arm attached to it, Dorian flipped the man onto his stomach with a crash that sounded like his nose breaking. Still holding the arm behind the man's back as he cried out in pain, Dorian looked up at little brave little Saorla.

"You know how to call the number for the police?" he asked, panting.

Her dark brown curls bobbed wildly as she nodded and ran out of the kitchen.

*IRM*

Dorian stayed exactly where he was until the police arrived. Dorian watched as they cuffed the man and loaded him into the back of a cruiser. A paramedic attended Emily as Dorian joined one of the officers on a quick tour of the home. Dorian was in complete revulsion at the state of the rooms. There appeared to be about forty-five children in the home with only six beds. Most of the older children, Emily appearing to be the eldest, allowed the younger children to share the beds while taking a sleeping bag on the floor. There were also three unclean bathrooms that looked like pests had taken up residence in. Dorian couldn't believe that the home was allowed to be a foster home.

According to the CPS worker who arrived shortly after the police arrived, the paperwork for the home seemed to be in perfect condition. Dorian had a funny suspicion that whoever filled out the paperwork had taken some sort of bribe from the home owner.

Dorian stopped walking when he saw two paramedics cart a bloody Emily, who's right eye already starting to show signed of swelling, to the waiting ambulance.

"We're just going to take her to the local hospital to be checked out," said the paramedic that had been looking over Emily in the kitchen. "The doctors at the children's hospital can tell us how long the abuse has been happening."

"You don't think this is the first time?" Dorian asked, goose bumps traveling down his arms.

The paramedic looked at Dorian and said, "Cases like this are never just the _first_ time."

Dorian swallowed and asked if he could join Emily. He told the CPS worker to contact the spokesperson for the Royal Family if she needed to ask Dorian questions before he loaded himself into the back of the ambulance.

Dorian remained quiet for the entire ride to the hospital. The only time he spoke was to answer questions that the paramedics couldn't answer for the emergency nurse. He remained there beside Emily while he watched doctors and other hospital staff take care of her. Her x-rays showed that she had a spiral fracture in her arm and a possible hip fracture. They also faintly showed the prior abuse that Emily endured.

The emergency physician wanted to admit Emily for observation when it appeared she also had a concussion; falling onto the floor was the speculation, though Emily didn't confirm or deny it.

In fact, she didn't say anything the entire time Dorian was with her. She was scheduled to see a psychologist in the morning along with a hospital social worker and CPS case worker in case she wanted to talk to someone about what happened that night.

Dorian was alone in her emergency room, silent and empty from hospital staff for the first time since they arrived, when Emily did speak.

"Thank you," she rasped, tears clouding her eyes as she slowly turned her head in his direction.

"For what?"

"For being there. For saving me," she said, choking on the words.

Dorian stepped closer to her and quietly comforted her while she cried. Dorian encircled his arms awkwardly around her shoulders, lifting her slightly from the hospital bed. She didn't appear to mind in the least as she laid her head against his shoulder and sobbed into his shirt.

*IRM*

Dorian slept very little that night when he arrived home. It was already spreading through the Glass Castle about what Dorian had witnessed. His parent's didn't approach him nor did anyone ask him about what happened. Dorian couldn't sleep much the next night either, so instead of sleeping he prepared to address his father's counsel in the morning. He knew there was a strong possibility that he could be called a traitor like Aedion called him. But he believed in this and he knew his people wanted their loved ones back home.

With Chaol's help, by the time the servants brought breakfast up to Dorian's room, they had pretty much finished with Dorian's proposal. Chaol had been rather helpful with his research, finding books for Dorian while he skimmed and read for answers. And Dorian had to admit that the PowerPoint looked very professional thanks to a few pointers Chaol suggested. The only thing Chaol wasn't helping with was Dorian's anxiety.

"Will you relax?" Dorian said as he watched Chaol pace the counsel room. "You look like your facing your death."

"How can you be so calm about the fact you are going to be strapped to the electric chair before you utter a single word?" Chaol hissed.

Before Dorian had a chance to reply, his father can storming into the counsel room, all his advisors scampering behind him like well trained dogs.

"Let's get this over with," his father snapped, sitting down at the hulking chair at the head of a long table.

Well, his father certainly appeared to be in a bad mood.

Dorian sat down to the left of his father while Chaol sat next to his own. Their relationship was still thawing, but it was a major improvement to see Chaol's father greet him warmly.

Dorian paid little attention to most meeting, his thoughts drifting and his stomach unsettling. He was slightly startled when his father stood up and called for the meeting to be adjourned.

"Actually," Dorian said, not standing with the others as they made to leave the room. "I have something to discuss with the counsel."

"What is this?" his father asked, looking back at Dorian.

Dorian stood and made his way to the computer in the counsel room. Dorian could hear Chaol's father question Chaol as he stood and made his way towards Dorian.

"Last chance to back out," Dorian whispered as members grumbled and slowly took their seats again.

Chaol glanced up from the computer screen as he pulled up the PowerPoint.

"There is no one else I would die for than you, brother," he said solemnly.

_Brother._

Dorian cleared his throat as the projector blinked back to life.

"I have been blessed to know that I have a home and parents that love me," Dorian said, staring down at his father who was impervious as ever. "But there are thousands out there who don't know what a home is like or if they will ever come home again. So I'm here to recommend changes for our beloved country's child protection services, foster care and…" Dorian paused, gathering his courage. "And I'm also here to propose a prisoners of war trade with Wendlyn."

As Dorian expected, there was uproar from nearly every member in the counsel room. A few remained passive, like Chaol's father and another elderly advisor that Dorian looked up when he was younger. Not to his surprise, his father was quietly glaring at him. Dorian refused to look anywhere else but that scowl.

"Enough," his father said, bringing a fist down onto the table. "What's the meaning of this, Dorian?"

"Our prison labor camps are overcrowded," Dorian stated, hearing Chaol click the mouse to change the slide on the PowerPoint. "By exchanging the Wendlyn servicemen for our own, we are opening over a hundred-thousand places that can be used for criminals and true traitors to the King and country of Adarlan. Plus families can be reunited. Our people will see that the Royal Family—that the King—looks out for his citizens."

Dorian waited for someone to speak.

"You also mentioned something about changes for the CPS?" Chaol's father said, his brows furrowed.

"Almost half a million children are currently or have been in the foster care system," Dorian said, still not quiet believing that figure when he read it. "But worse is that there are only ten thousand foster homes for these children. In a single home, there can be up to fifty children of different ages. Many children do not have a bed to sleep in, many go hungry, and the reality is that many children will die from malnutrition or infection that could have been curable if they had been seen sooner."

"And?" snapped Duke Perrington, his father's most loyal advisor. "What the hell does that have to do with this counsel? We have more important things to do than talk about pathetic kids."

Dorian looked at Chaol, who nodded in response.

Dorian didn't have to look at the screen behind him as he looked back at Perrington.

"This is Rachel," Dorian said, pointing a hand in the direction of the screen. "She happened to be, as you called them, a pathetic child. And, she also happened to be from a city that falls under your dukedom. She was five years old when she was first sexually abused by a neighbor that babysat her. The abuse didn't stop there, but continued until she committed suicide. She was only thirteen when she took her life. And she was pregnant with her abuser's child."

Chaol clicked on the mouse and said, "This is Daniel. He was ten when he was taken away from his home because his mother was found unfit to take care of him due to her drug habits. He was abused repeatedly while in a foster home. And he couldn't be adopted because his mother still had parental rights over him, so he remained in that abusive home. He died at the age of fifteen from internal bleeding by being punched repeatedly. He was from Anielle."

Dorian watched Chaol's father sit straighter as he looked at the face of the smiling child on the screen.

And so it continued as Dorian and Chaol took turned showing the faces of children that died because of years of abuse that went on unreported. Each child was from a city that each advisor was from, called home, or part of their domain. And it continued that way until they reached the child from the capital that Dorian called home.

"And this is Emily," Dorian said, swallowing the bile that threatened make him throw up. "She lived her entire life in foster care. She was adopted by a fine military widower, still grieving from his own loss. Together they called each other home. She is his daughter. He is her father. But because he's currently missing in action or even possibly a prisoner of war in Wendlyn, Emily remains in foster care till he comes home. Emily—" Chaol clicked the screen to show a picture of Emily from her hospital stay. A few council members turned their heads when they saw the blood and damage Emily endured "—Emily after she offered herself her abusive foster parent, protecting two little girls who created a mess in the kitchen trying to bake cookies. Emily repeatedly took the abuse for other kids in the home. Doctors at the children's hospital don't know if she'll ever be able to have kids after everything she had suffered.

"So you asked what these 'pathetic' kids have to do with this counsel, Perrington. These kids have everything to do with this counsel because they are the future for Adarlan. If you don't protect them now, who will? If the most powerful people in the country won't protect them, who will?" Dorian asked, before pointing back to the picture of Emily. One of her eyes was black and swollen, and her arm was in plaster. "Haven't children like these suffered enough pain and abuse? Another child shouldn't have to die, let alone go through the things these children had to go through. So again, if not us, who? Because our citizens will not make the change with us if they don't see the people they call their leaders make the change with them."

The room remained silent as Dorian waited before them, his heart racing. He had put everything into this presentation. Every inch of his soul and every teardrop went into this.

And then finally, his father rose and stared down at Dorian. Dorian's heart felt like it was sinking as he tried to read his father's reaction.

"If you can find an agreement with Wendlyn over a prisoner trade, then I will approve the move," his father said gruffly. Dorian felt the shock tingle down his spine but his father wasn't done. "This counsel will meet again tomorrow to discuss changes in the child protective services and how to increase the number of foster homes and adoptions in this country. That will be all for today."

Dorian remained standing where he had been for the last half hour as the counsel members filled out of the room. A few of them, like Chaol's father, clapped a hand on his shoulder and told him he would make a fine king one day. It wasn't until Dorian and Chaol were the only ones left in the room before they fully realized what they had just accomplished.

*IRM*

"_Yes, thank you Sandy. Most of Adarlan, and Wendlyn too, were in shock today as they heard that an agreement was made between the two countries to release and send the prisoners of war back to their homelands. Two Adarlan Navel destroyers, the HMS Terrasen and HMS Orynth, will meet two Wendlyn destroyers, the S.S. Maas and the S.S. Murray, half way between the two countries and allow the exchange to happen at sea in neutral waters."_

_When asked about how this exchange came about, the Royal Spokesperson for the Havilliard family had this to say: 'The Royal family has always taken pride in their country and their citizens. They had felt that though the war with Wendlyn will continue on, that this may lead to more open dialogue between the two countries.'"_

_The exchange of prisoners will happen by the end of next week, and many families are looking forward to be reunited with their love ones. Reporting live from outside of the Glass Castle, this is Julia Owls."_

*IRM*

Dorian smiled as he and Emily waited in the park hanger along with thousands of other family members to see their loved ones being bused from the ship to the hanger. Emily was slowly starting to return to a normal routine. After a new report ran that current foster homes were being overwhelmed by children, thousands of families had stepped up to take in children. They even received payment, though it was very small, for their services. Emily was living with a sweet elderly couple who missed having their own children and grandchildren around. The couple was also thinking of adopting Saorla and Sorcha, who absolutely loved being there with them.

However, despite the fact that Emily looked well and her black eye was slowly fading away, Dorian knew there were unseen scars that may never truly heal. Emily confided in him that she was seeing someone for the depression and anxiety she was experiencing. It was helping some, but it didn't stop Emily from flinching when someone got too close to her. Like right now, she was tugging nervously at her blouse which hid more bruises on her ribs Dorian didn't know she had suffered weeks before.

Dorian was shaken from his thoughts when the first of the military members started to arrive. He watched as people cried, hugged and kissed one another. He was watching a particular father cry as he held what appeared to be his five month old baby for the first time ever when he heard Emily give a sob.

Turning to look in her direction, he saw Emily run as fast as she could with all her injuries to a man with blonde hair. He had injuries of own, his left hand was missing and a scar ran along his jaw, but it didn't matter to her as she threw her arms around him in a hug that made him think she was never going to let him go for many years to come.

* * *

**Some of this was very hard for me to write. I have known a few friends who have been abused and have seen how strong they are to overcome all the negativity they feel afterwards. It's a top that is often hard to discuss with others. And I tried to give the respect that victims of abuse deserve. Just because this is fictional does not mean it's false; it may be real life for someone.**

**Also while I do feel that there are a lot of issues with CPS, I do find that adoption and foster care is a huge blessing. Again, I know many blended families who welcomed many with open arms. In fact, when I'm ready to have a family of my own, I am going to adopt.**

**Anyways, thank you to some of the responses I've received on Tumblr. Please feel free to review. I like hearing from readers.**

**Much love,  
Nollie**

**Playlist for this chapter: Avicii "Wake Me Up" — Nickelback "How You Remind Me" — Michael Jackson "Man in the Mirror" — Sara Bareilles "Brave" — Matthew West "Do Something" — Matchbox Twenty "How Far We've Come" — Foo Fighters "My Hero"**

For more of my Throne of Glass fan fictions, just replace the word dot with an actual period: nolliemarie dot tumblr dot com/tagged/My-FanFics


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